Stepsister
by Prince Fire and Music
Summary: The slipper was only the beginning. Now Anne, the stepsister everyone hated, has to save Ella with the aid of Prince Chris, the fiance Anne is desperately in love with. Can a journey change his mind? Or will the curse of Anne's stolen beauty prevail?


**A/N:** Hehehe, anyone remember this??? Yep it's still alive. I did so love my plot for this. A story as basic to the original Cinderella story as a Cinderella story could ever be. A few twists, but of course, the prologue says it all. This story is about what happens AFTER Cinderella, not during. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I've added the end of the chapter, too!

**Prologue:**

I blinked and stared at the shoe incredulously. It fit her so easily as if it had been molded in the exact shape of her foot. She smiled and Christian grinned. "You! You were the girl at the ball!"

I gaped. Ella?! My own sister?! No, it couldn't be! Anyone, but her!

I bit my lip and glanced down on my own foot. It had been just a little too big for the shoe! If I had small feet like she did…no, it would have mattered, anyway. That's not the only thing that needed to be smaller. A smaller waist and a smaller neck would have done. And maybe a smaller brain, too. No man wanted a smart wife in this country.

Ella looked triumphant. Prince Christian lifted her to her feet, both slippers somehow attached. She was glowing, almost singing with delight. "I forgive every one of you!" Her voice rang out. She turned to me, "Especially you, Anne."

Christian shot a cold, hateful glance in my direction. His eyebrows deepened with the hatred of a thousand wrong krakens. I forced down sobs determined to erupt. My love, my prince, the only thing I had ever wanted despised me. I was just the mean, ugly stepsister to him.

**Chapter One:**

I know that you want me to tell you I was the good stepsister, the kind one; the one of whom no evil was deserved. I am grieved to disappoint you. I was far and wide the "evil one", just as Collette was not the kind one either. But I was far worse.

Selfish, spoiled? Many called me that. They said I had disillusions of becoming the Queen and marrying Prince Christian.

I did, but because I was madly, passionately, deeply in love with Chris.

And he loved Ella.

I hate that girl. Did I already say that? Well then hear me again; I hate her.

Always the belle of the ball, the mysterious princess, the captivating servant, the ravishing farm girl. I am nothing. I am Anne. No one likes Anne.

I fled from the room. It was stupid I know, but I had to leave. I couldn't bear the look Christian had given me. It pounded into my mind and choked the life from my spirit. Hated me! I knew he could never love me, but hate?!

I thought back to Ella: smiling, glowing, gleaming. _This is her fault!_ My thoughts demanded. I clenched my fists in rage. She would pay for this.

Though we were stepsisters, Ella and I were never close. She was always fighting Maman about doing the chores and Colette, my older sister, merely sat about in the living room grinning maliciously and patting her brand new rope of black pearls. We all knew something wasn't quite right with her, the way she just kept grinning and staring into nothingness. I, on the other hand, would be locked in my room, reading some new novel the bookkeeper had leant on the way back from the market. I liked silence. I preferred thinking and dreaming to Collette's schemes to marry the prince, or Maman's rants our cottages upkeep, or even Ella's griping about domestic violence.

When we first arrived here, Ella's father was alive. He was a wonderful, kind man and I loved the time I got to spend with him, though it often made Ella jealous. We were both very similar; we both loved books, and forests, and adventures, and sweets, and foreign languages. Ella resembled her father, but she didn't have any of his intellectual loves or his genuineness to really be a suitable playmate for me. So we ignored each other. And when her father died, I shut her out of my life completely.

I never knew much about my real father. Some told me he was dead; some said he wandered about philandering, others told me he went insane. Maman wouldn't talk about him. But I didn't care. After all I had barely seen him even before he left.

I knew not how I got there, but I found myself in my room, as always: my only safe haven in this house.

I sat down and wept. Horrible Ella! Horrible ball! Horrible Maman! Horrible Everyone! They were all greedy, all selfish, all conniving! And I would never marry Chris! I would never, for once in my life, have the thing I truly loved the most!

The tears came faster and I pounded the bed in rage! It felt good to cry and get some things off my chest. I stared up a mirror lying over my desk: thin blond hair, huge grey eyes, fat lips. And that figure! Disgusting! I had always been ugly. I always would, I suppose.

I laid my head on my pillow. Sleep felt so good now. Rest was so comforting. My muscles relaxed, though they were almost sore from being tense for so long. I climbed up onto my feather bed. At least we had wealth. Some people had nothing. I at least had this. My thoughts drifted away as sleep washed over my body.

I woke up the obnoxious sound of a rubber ball pounding on gravel. I bolted out of bed and peered out of the window. Those loathsome neighbor Gnomes!

I gritted my teeth. I hated gnomes! Except for the gnomes in the book that lay half open on my bed, a gnomic tale called Quaz que zeq. It was an interesting retelling of Snow White, but instead of dwarves there were gnomes and the princess in this version was the daughter of a mining legend who was chased by an evil apple-loving centaur. It was amusing, though filled with unkind comments about centaurs (as gnomes and centaurs have been at each other for years). However gnomes have only five letters in the language, which makes things extremely confusing, especially when they have dozens of different pronunciations for each word.

But _these_ gnomes! Well, let's just say we have a fine, long history together. And these gnomes know better then to bounce their ball in _our_ road.

We lived out in the countryside, but we still lived within close proximity of a family of wealthy gnome bankers. Gnomes basically infest themselves in any sort of job or position that requires gold or mining. You can hear them when you go to the town to make a deposit, counting each coin, one by one, and grinning with their golden yellow teeth over the marvel of its sheen; disgusting!

I passed by my mirror as I stormed out of the room; not even noticing my hair was in monstrous disarray. Those gnome children were going to have a special treat for their misbehavior.

Outside two small boys were throwing an equally small, blue rubber ball at each other. Bouncing back and forth in that degradingly meticulous noise that sounded like the last rings in a madman's ears. They were stout for their age, as all gnomes are. Their ears were sharp and curled, their noses short and stubborn, their eyes an earthy amber. They might have been considered somewhat attractive or "cute" children, however I was not blessed with the gift of child adoration. When I see a child out of their place. I beat them and make them remember.

See? Told you I wasn't kind.

They'd tell you, too, especially as my large, overbearing shadow covered their sunshine on that oh-too-happy-day.

They stared blankly at me.

"What are you doing? The one closest to me asked. "You're supposed to be in prison." He said in so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious and predictable thing in the world. Of course, to them it was.

I grinned sadistically, wondering how I might punish them this time.

"Your hair is messed up! And you smell! Worse then usual, that is…"

That was the younger one, the one farthest away from me. At three he was just too young to understand what his mouth had inevitably won him.

I smirked and turn to the elder, who at five was shaking his head franticly and the other and attempting to make warning signs.

I took the rubber ball from his hands.

"Hey!" He cried indignantly.

"I'll give it back, I promise," The smile was still plaster to my face. I would after all! Just not without a little fun first.

I bounced it a few times and then held it in my hands sturdily. How did they do it again? Oh yeah, hip shift, am wind, over the shoulder and…

SMASH! The ball crashed right into the boy's face, directly where I had targeted it. My arm was too good for even a hawk to notice the ball before it hit him.

The older brother cried out in protest, rushing over to help his brother, but I was there first and the ball was once again mine.

"You said you'd give it back!" He shouted, biting back tears of anger.

I chuckled. "Did I? I'm sorry, I didn't mean immediately. Here you go."

I walked over to him, towering over his puny insignificant body. He reached out and tried to take the ball from me, but I held fast. He pulled a bit harder, but still I was too strong for him.

He stared at me blankly, before realizing his mistake in letting down his guard. My foot jutted out from beneath my skirt, smashing into his shin. In a minute he was howling and sobbing alongside his brother.

I grinned again at my victory. "Next time, you ought to pay better attention to the rules I've set up. Someone's bound to get hurt."

The older one glared at me, viciously. "You don't make the rules anymore! Didn't you hear? Charles has sentenced you and your family to the dungeons for abusing Ella. You're going to their wedding tomorrow and after the ceremony is over you will be taken down to your final resting grave."

Charles was sending me to the dungeon? Ha! What did this fool think I was? Certainly he had underestimated my overwhelming wealth of intelligence.

I laughed, "I'd give you another kick for that lie, but I'm tired so I'll let you be."

I gritted his teeth furiously and I half-expected him to roar or try and put some terrible curse on me. Some Gnomes could really do that when they were of the age. "It's not a lie at all! It's the truth! That what the sign says on your door!"

I glanced around stupidly to our front door. Sure enough, there, posted in big bold letters, was a decree of our crime and sentence for all to see. It was meant to humiliate us, but in that it had failed. The only other people in this county were the Gnomes and of them we held no respect.

I turned back around to give them another sharp insult, but they were gone, somehow. Gnomes have a few of doing that: leaving strangely and suddenly. Of course, it really didn't matter anyway. I was bored of them.

I didn't feel like going back inside the house, so I found myself wandering back to the main road. Perhaps a short walk would do me good.

I grabbed a canteen of water and placed the strap around my neck. It had once been Ella's Father's, but he had given it to me many years ago before his death. It was a simple invention, but mandatory for any good trip: short or long.

The trees were painted in the glorious green colors of the late summer and the wildflowers still held their bloom. There were robins singing in the trees. I wished to join my voice with theirs, but I had neither the energy nor the talent to do so.

The road became less and less worn as I journeyed down it. There were tree roots everywhere and sharp ravine, which made the journey interesting. Occasionally there were pastures and in those I found my greatest difficulties, with the sun beating down up me in that savage manner.

It was like that today, too, or even hotter. I raised the canteen to my lips again. My supply of water had gone down to half way in seemingly a matter of seconds. I would not have enough to last me until I got home. Could I manage?

There was a groan from nearby, a raspy awful groan of an old man who sounded as though he might die. I ignored the sound and continued on in my way, until another groan stopped me. I could see no one. No one but…

And all at once I saw him in the daisies: tattered and beaten by the sun's excoriating presence.

"Daughter, please, have mercy on me. Lend me a drink, will you? Now there's a kind lass."

What was he talking about? I didn't say yes! That presumptuous, wrinkled…!

"How_ dare_ you?" I shrieked. "I didn't say yes and I'm _not_ your daughter! You want water? Go to the river and get some! Don't plead and beg for some of mine! If you have the strength to sit amongst the daisies and demand a poor girl for the supply she rightfully obtained, you can _certainly_ muster the energy to find a stream or creek to satisfy your needs!"

At first I thought he would either cry and throw himself at my feet or perhaps yell and attack me. Instead he did a most curious thing.

He laughed.

I glowered. "Do you mean to mock me, sir? Do you dare find my sensibilities humorous?"

He continued laughing for a bit and then settled down, wiping a tear out of his eye. "That's the straightest answer I've gotten out of someone in three hundred years."

My jaw fell open. How many years? What, wait? What's going on?

He smiled, a large mischievous smile. His thin, swarthy sin was framed by rolls of silky grey hair, which tumbled over his chin in an elegant, but long beard. Atop his head was mounted a large pointed grey hat, shining eerily in contrast to the rest of his dull makeshift garments. His silvery-blue eyes gleamed fiercely at mine. He was a wizard!

I knew all about wizards; I had studied them for five years straight. I knew there were black wizards and grey wizards and white wizards, and the increasingly rare blue wizards. They could all do wondrous magic, though many were evil. This one seemed to be one of good humor: a neutral wizard, probably.

"You're a wizard!" I said, still taken back.

His face flashed with interest. "That's right, how did you know, child?"

"I studied wizards for…for a long time when I was young! You're a…!"

"A grey wizard, of course, amongst the most powerful, naturally."

I beamed at my fortune. Grey Wizards could do anything from controlling the weather to granting people's wishes! They were immensely lucky to encounter, especially if they happened to like you.

"I suppose you want a wish?"

I nearly nodded, until I noticed the side of his beard. Part of it was starting to droop down from the heat of the sun and the beginning signs of wax were showing. He wasn't a wizard! He was a fake! Just like his beard!

"You're not a wizard," I said, the enthusiasm completely sucked out of my voice.

He glared. "Not a…?"

"No, of course not!" I retorted bitterly. "I can see your beard peeling off the side of your face! I'm sure you make quite a lot of profit with such a craft scheme, you thief!"

He cocked his head, still unsure. "Do you not believe I will grant your wish?"

"You couldn't grant my wish if I said I wanted to be standing in a field of daisies, you cheat!"

At this he began to smirk. "Name it."

"What?!"

His smile was quite unnerving now, "Name your wish."

"No!" I shrieked. What was he doing?

"Name it!" He growled harshly.

I took a step backwards, surprised by his sudden outburst. A wish? Could he really grant it? If he couldn't, I 'd be no worse then I was right now.

At first I wished to get out of jail, but then I thought. That would be all too easy. Perhaps there could be a way to get Charles to love me so that he in turn would release me freely. But how?

Ella. Ella needed to go. But I couldn't kill her, anyway, because well…I just couldn't. Why did Chris like her anyway? Just because she was beautiful?

Beautiful! That's it! If I were beautiful, I could make Charles fall in love with me. But not just beautiful, as beautiful as Ella was. If I had Ella's beauty…

"If you _could_ grant me one wish, I wish for the beauty of my stepsister Ella, the bride of the prince."

His raised his eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, but I'm sure you can't even grant me that." I turned away and left him speechless in the prairie, completely forgetting about the water he had asked for. Of course I had said no, anyway, it hardly mattered. But why had he given me the look? Did I wish the wrong thing? Perhaps I should have just wished that Charles fall in love with me instead.

No, certainly he couldn't allow that. That was always seemingly against the invisible rules of wish granting. Besides, that would have been too easy.

I had no idea.


End file.
